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Thursday, November 21, 2013

Three months ago, Jasmine learned she’d been born a snow wereleopard.
Since then, she’s been hunted by a serial killer, started dating a hot
dhampyr—who’s probably far too old for her—and in general had a crash
course in living in a paranormal world. Now she works for the local
supernatural council solving problems and running errands, in between
university classes.

Just as she starts looking forward to winter
break with friends and family—not to mention a little alone time with
her boyfriend—a cannibal turns the city’s homeless into its all you can
eat buffet and it’s Jazz’s job to stop it. If that wasn’t bad enough,
now a berserker is dead set on pounding her into paste. To top it all
off, her lover is strangely distant and she has an itch that seriously
needs to be scratched.

Can she determine whose eating people in
her city, resolve a conflict that’s almost as old as she is, and figure
out what’s happened to her and Logan’s relationship, all before
Christmas?

For readers 16+

Chapter 1

I
knocked, the heavy steel door barely making any noise. After several
minutes, when no one had answered, I pounded the door with the side
of my fist, hard enough to bruise my hand and shake the door in its
frame.

“Just
a minute!” someone yelled from inside the apartment.

After
slamming my fist against the door one more time for good measure, I
folded my arms across my chest and cocked my hip to one side, placing
most of my weight on my right leg. Only a whisper of sound came to me
through the door as someone moved around inside.

Several
more minutes later, the door finally opened, and a bare-chested man,
his hair still dripping from the shower, opened the door. His scent,
under the Irish Spring, was musky, familiar, and decidedly male. I
had no idea how he could stand to use such a strongly scented soap.
Maybe he didn’t use his nose. He matched the image sent to me by
Mitchell, having an ordinary face—neither attractive nor ugly—and
the lean physique of a natural athlete. My gaze couldn’t help but
glide up and down his taut abdomen before I realized what I was
doing.

When
my eyes returned to his face, the corner of his mouth was turned up
in a knowing smirk. Embarrassment caused blood to rush to my cheeks,
and I stammered, “Are you... Mister Johnson?”

The
smirk turned into a leer. “Call me... Dick.”

I
rolled my eyes. If that’s really your name, your parents need
professional help. Looking him in the eyes, I didn’t let my
gaze waver. “Could I come in? We need to talk.”

With
a casual shrug, he turned and walked into the apartment. Considering
that an invitation, I followed, closing the door behind me.

Leaning
against the wall, his eyes glided up and down my body—clearly
appraising. The look they gave me and the scent of arousal pheromones
told me clearly what was on his mind—even if I could ignore the
growing bulge in his jeans. “Soooo, what’s your name, beautiful?”

“Jasmine.”

He
raised an eyebrow at that and adrenaline joined the musky scent of
his arousal. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly before the
confident smirk returned to his lips. “Would you like a drink?
Coke? Beer?”

“Beer,
this early? Are you hoping it will cause my panties to fall off?”

The
confident smirk turned into a lecherous grin, his eyes gliding up and
down my body.

I
looked at the ceiling, thinking, Why me? before meeting his
eyes again.“I’m just here to talk.”

With
the twitch of one strong shoulder, he pushed off the wall and turned
towards the kitchen. “Well, I could use a Bud.”

I
moved to follow. “Look, I—”

Before
I could finish, he kicked out behind him. His foot took me in the
abdomen, driving the air from my lungs in a whoosh, causing me
to stagger back into the wall. Gasping, I tried to catch my breath,
but Dick didn’t give me a chance. I felt, more than saw, him move
and sidestepped at the last moment. The crash echoed through the
apartment. Wood groaned, splintering as his fist smashed one of the
wall studs into kindling and making me extremely glad it had been the
door and not my face.

Wiping
drywall dust out of my eyes, I jumped into the air, kicking off the
wall. Bringing my right hand down and across, my fist slammed into
the side of Dick’s skull, backed by my full body weight and every
ounce of strength I could muster. His head snapped back, and he spun
almost a full circle before he tried to stagger away from me.
Growling viciously, I spun, whipped around, and threw a back kick
into his chest.

Dick
flew almost ten feet across the room, smashing through the flat
screen television before finally coming to a stop against the far
wall. Knuckles popping, I clenched my fists and stalked across the
room while he tried to untangle himself from the broken electronics
and wires.

“I
just came here to talk to you.” My voice was at least two octaves
deeper than normal, more of a growl than words. “And you go and
kick me!”

Throwing
off the last of the destroyed TV, he held his hands up and out. Our
eyes met and he looked down and away, submitting to my dominance. I
couldn’t help the smile that turned up my lips at that. “Fine,
what do you want to talk about?” he asked.

His
posture was submissive, so I relaxed and the moment I did he broke
into a run, heading into the kitchen. Where the hell is he going?
He’s on the second floor, there’s no back— The sound of
shattering glass answered that question.

“Oh
hell!” I spat, darting into the kitchen after him. He only had a
moment’s head start, but he’d made good use of it. Catching the
scent of blood, I glimpsed red on the new-fallen snow as I stepped
out to the balcony. Without thinking, I sprang onto the railing and
leaped to the snow-covered parking lot below. The impact shot through
my calves and my ass as my feet slid out from under me, hitting the
ground hard.

A
vehicle door slammed as I pushed myself to my feet. Way to look
stupid, Jazz.

My
eyes darted left and right as I tried to find my quarry. A powerful
V8 engine roared to life, and I dove to the side as a large ‘80s
Blazer careened toward me. Rolling to my feet, I barely stayed out of
its way. Coughing, I spat out the filthy snow, the taste of oil and
asphalt fouling the slush. Road-flavored Slurpee, yuck.

Our
eyes met, and I bared my teeth with a growl. Dick threw the truck
into gear, the tires whirring as they spun on the frozen pavement. I
took a step forward, the Chevy catching traction and squealing toward
me. Purely on instinct, I leaped strait into the air. My right foot
barely touched the roof—Michael Jordan eat your heart out—and
I twisted, trying to find purchase on the slick metal surface as the
SUV continued to move beneath me. Sliding off the back, I landed
lightly on my feet and stared at the tail lights of the truck. My
mind reeling at what I’d just done, it took me a moment to realize
Dick was getting away.

The
Blazer spun, and I gave chase, catching the bumper before it got out
of the parking lot. My shoes slid across the slick ground; it was all
I could do to hold on. One of the other residents chose that moment
to pull into the apartment parking lot. Dick was utterly out of
control, and there was nothing he could do to avoid the impact, the
large truck smashing the small Honda out of the way with the sound of
squealing metal and the crash of breaking glass. Losing my grip and
my footing, I rolled across the sidewalk before finally coming to a
stop. I just lay there, trying to catch my breath.

“Why
can’t anything be easy?” I asked, staring at the cloudy, gray
sky. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” Hell, you
really should get paid something before spouting clichés.

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